Following are the winners and runners up of a Scary Story Contest hosted by Sheboygan's Mead Public Library and The Sheboygan Press. All stories are written by Sheboygan youth. Names are included where parents have given permission.

Winning stories

I wake up sweating, even though there’s a cold breeze coming through my window. Something is here, I can tell it’s in the room. I cry, praying to not let this be another outburst. Only rarely can I sense when an attack is boiling, but when I do it feels something like this. I’m scared out of my mind. I listen, because what else can I do? My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my throat. I hear something rhythmic from the corner. I anxiously look around the room. My hand shoots straight to my mouth as I choke on my own sob. I know how many times I’ve thought I couldn't handle any more, but this time it’s really too much.

In the corner of my room sits a small girl, singing to herself. It’s more like a mumble, but constantly changing pitch. The girl is humming the lullaby my mother used to sing. Her knees are tucked under her chin, and she’s rocking back and forth, making the floorboards creak.

I almost faint when her head jerks up to meet my gaze. There are little red lines growing up the corners of her mouth, glistening in the moonlight. She giggles at me, and says in a small voice, “Don’t worry, you’ll never be alone again. You can always play with me.”

“-and now back to reporters in Alderrdean, with another mysterious death. This one, the town’s local librarian. What is this Jeff, the fourth this month?”

“I believe so; how tragic. Police currently have no leads, and anyone with information is advised to contact authorities immediately. It seems as though an attacker is out there, but isn’t targeting anyone specific. Parents are encouraged to keep a close watch on their kids.”

I shut the television off, and dropped the remote to the floor with a loud crack. Running up to the bathroom, I go over what I’ve heard. It seems the memories slip away faster and faster. I’ve tried keeping journals. Some days it seemed to have helped, and other days just provoke another outburst. Either way, what if someone were to find them?

Townspeople have always seen me as odd, or at least since my mother died years ago. At first it was just sympathetic glances, and people regarding me extra gently. But when I stopped going places and talking to my friends, people approach me as if I’m some feral animal they’re just trying to live with. They obviously think that my mother’s death broke me. And really, they’re right.

I'm scrubbing my hands as the tears finally start flowing. Sometimes, I'm just glad to know that I can still cry. I draw a shaky breath and look in the mirror. Mom wouldn’t have wanted this. The puffy red eyes, the terrible laughter sometimes. The way I sit in my room, tearing at my own skin, desperately thinking of the best way to get help, and deep down knowing no one could.

By now, I've been scrubbing so violently for so long, it’s my blood that's spiraling down the drain like spilled ink.

That night, after hearing the news, I had a dream. In it, I backed up clumsily into a table, tripping over my own feet as I made my way towards the library door. I didn’t know her that well, but I visited the library often enough to be comfortable addressing her on a first-name basis. I walked out of the building into the busy downtown streets. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, and I was terrified of what I’d become. Seeing the blood on my hands, I shoved them in my coat pockets, and thankfully no one seemed to notice.

The girl’s looking right at me … and she looks just like me.

“You know, you'd be so much better off just accepting it,” she says, pulling me out of my memories. I’m shaking now, not of cold, but fear. This has got to be one of my nightmares again.

“Accepting what?” I ask, almost defeated.

“You know what you are,” she continues. I have to sit down again, because she’s right.

The girl is right. It is easier to accept it. To let whatever entity that had controlled me in the past, completely take over. To give up.

I can feel my consciousness slipping away. I start remembering each of them. The baker. The waitress. My mother. As I take my last breath, I wonder, was it so bad? They were going to die anyway. But either way, one thing is certain: No matter what sort of afterlife comes next, I’ll never forget the look in the librarian’s eyes.

2. "War of the Pumpkins and the Melons," by Matthew Knaak, fourth-grader at Grant Elementary School

It was the one thing I most dreaded seeing, right in front of me. There was a watermelon. The watermelon was named Bob. Bob lived in Sheboygan. Sure, he had everything he needed. His kid, his watermelon seeds and his almighty melon car! Until….

He found a DO NOT ENTER house, so he decided to go in. He heard some wild noises. BANG BANG BANG! PEW PEW BOOM BOOM! PEW PEW PEW PEW!

He looked outside. Carved pumpkins were at war! Now Bob was really confused. Bob had no idea what was going on! Suddenly, they all looked at him, and they all shot their pumpkin seeds at him. PEW PEW PEW! BANG BANG BANG! And then the final blow, massive pumpkin! BOOM! And they never saw Bob again.

Bob’s son, Jimmy, found the land his Dad disappeared in. There was a red cube about to go into Lake Michigan in one minute. He was smart, so he hid in a building. He heard the cube fall in. WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAHHHH-PHOO. Bob called his allies instead of looking.

“Brothers, we might be in danger! It is our enemy, the pumpkins! The ones that made my father go missing!” Jimmy said, trying to speak quietly, “Bring the army!” But he yelled it, forgetting about the pumpkins.

He hung up the phone and rolled onto the ceiling. The knocking at the door was too loud, too erratic. The pumpkins came in. They looked left, they looked right. But they didn’t see Jimmy.

Outside, the army arrived. Watermelons threw watermelons, they shot watermelon seeds. And even shot Nerf bullets! It was a long war, but the melons won. They officially kicked out the pumpkins from the country.

3. "My Book," by Lynn Xiong, ninth-grader at South High School

The library was especially cold that evening when I stepped inside, but I didn’t put much thought into it. I headed towards the fiction section. After browsing, I checked out five books.

While checking books out, I came across one with no memory of grabbing. It had no fancy cover, just big red letters that spelled out “SONG.” Curious, I flipped the book to a random page to see what this book was about.

It read, “It gave me a music box. The sound was pretty.” The writing was in messy handwriting, as if a child had written it. I shut the book, uninterested, then realized that the book must be horror. I wasn’t interested in horror.

I snatched my books and walked up to the closest bookshelf. There was some room and I squeezed “SONG” into place. I left the library and headed home.

I lived in an average house with my parents and my cat named Oscar. I made it to my room and dumped the books onto my bed. Carrying the books to my house can be tiring.

My eyes checked my books. I suddenly spotted a familiar black book that I swore I remembered putting away. I held “SONG” up, staring suspiciously as I tried to remember if I picked it up. Nothing came to mind. A chill ran down my spine as I dropped the book onto my bed.

I'll return it tomorrow. I counted the books, making sure they’re all here and found all books with me, including “SONG. I placed the books on my shelf.

“Dinner’s ready!” mother called. I rushed out of my room.

That night, I slept in my bed, Oscar beside me. A music box of some sort of lullaby began to play. The lullaby was creepy, but familiar. Mysteriously, I felt uncomfortable,

“Hey,” a young voice called. I stared back. There stood a small figure by the door. I watched as it motioned me to follow.

“Come on!” it exclaimed. I slowly got out of bed, feeling the sudden urge to follow. The melody grew louder. The figure sprinted down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

Turning the corner, I found myself in an old playground. I glanced over my shoulder to find a misty forest. Turning forward, a figure sat on a swing in the distance. The music grew louder.

I hesitantly walked forward, the lullaby urging me. When I got closer, a young girl with long hair and innocent eyes. She held a music box in her lap, which played the lullaby. She looked eerily familiar.

“The shadow said that this playground was always empty.” The girl continued. “It was lonely, so it invited us to play with it.” She stopped swinging.

“But then we moved away. I didn't want to forget the shadow, so I wrote it in a book.”

I stared at the girl anxiously. She fell silent as the box continued singing. The girl grabbed the music box and got off the swing.

“I lost the book one day.” She frowned. “Mommy and Daddy said that they didn’t know where it went, but they threw it away. But I know I will find the book. It will find a way to me.”

The music box stopped playing, the girl falling silent. The quiet made my skin crawl. The girl suddenly looked at me, making me jump. Her eyes were dripping of pitch-black goo. There was a sick grin on her face

“And it found us,” she spoke. “It found us, it found us, it found us.”

I tried to back away, but my feet were glued to the floor. The chant was getting louder. Trying to block it out, I cupped my ears with my hands, but it didn’t work.

I snapped my eyes open to find my bedroom. I quickly got off my bed and ran to the shelf. I grabbed “SONG” and flipped to the first page. There, I found my name written underneath “author.”

Everything clicked. Now it all made sense. The girl who I saw was me and the book I created is right here.

Runners up

1. "The Magic Book," by Maris Vollmer, third-grader at Sheboygan Falls Elementary School

I knew I shouldn’t have checked out that book from the library. Hi, my name is Ellie. I am 9 years old and live in Denver, Colorado. I was at the library with my mom. It was a school assignment. We had to get a history book. I wanted to go to a bookstore instead, but mom said this, “the library is way cheaper than a bookstore.”

So, I went to the history section on the far right corner of the library. I found an old book called “The Magic Book.” But in red marker it was scribbled the words “of history.” I figured after somebody else’s experience, they thought it was about history. So I decided to check it out.

I went up to the desk. “Oh my goodness!” said the librarian. “I would never check out that book if I were you. But OK …” said the librarian. Beep! went the scanner.

When I got home, I started studying. It turns out it was about scary stuff. Even scarier than an R.L. Stine Goosebumps book. It said stuff like as ancient as when monsters ruled the world. The next day, I took a history test.

After school, I went to study some more. I opened up the book. I opened up to the exact page I left off on. Page 3. I read a little bit of the page. I realized it did not talk about monsters. Oh my gosh! Did the pages change? I was starting to be creeped out by this book. I could see why the librarian did not want me to check out this book. I just wanted to throw it in the dumpster, I thought.

That’s when it all started. A ghost or some kind of evil spirit rose out of the book. “Ha ha ha ha ha! I heard your thoughts, weirdo.”

“AHHHHHHH!” I screamed.

“Ellie, are you hurt? I'll get the first aid kit! Or are you sick? Maybe I'll get the thermometer!”

“AHHHHHHH!” I screamed again.

“Sheesh! Ellie” said mom. “Why are you screaming?”

“An evil spirit is gonna kill me!” said Elie.

“Nice Halloween spirit. I like to hear that you are getting into the Halloween comfort zone.”

“For your information, I am not in any kind of comfort zone! I am gonna die in about less than 10 minutes!!”

In the light, do you know who I saw? My older brother, Liam. He was holding a paper ghost and a flashlight to put under his head.

“LIAM!” I yelled. “You gave me a heart attack!!!”

“So?” said Liam.

“You big, fat meanie!! You nearly killed me of fear!”

Then, Liam did something VERY EXTREMELY RUDE. He pinched me.

I found myself in my bed. It was 12:00 p.m. My heart was pounding loudly. Whoa. That was creepy. Just then, Liam quietly crept into my room and held a flashlight under his head. “Hi, little munchkin.” Then, started kissing me all over my face.

“Stop, Liam, stop!” said the person.

“Liam?” said the person. “I am not Liam. I am grandma Jillian.”

“Oh thank god! Wait. I don't have a grandma Jillian.”

The grandma person took off her head and there was … a zombie! A real dead human.

“Oh my god!” I said.

I was totally dreaming before. I knew I was this time.

“Hey, you,” I said. “Pinch me”

He punched me instead.

“Hey! I said PINCH not PUNCH.”

But I was not dreaming. It was real. I just never should of checked out that book.

2. "The Nuisance Night," by Kaitlyn, 12th-grader at North High School

I knew I shouldn’t have checked out that book from the library! I said it once, and I won’t say it again! There were many signs that day, yet I didn't take heed. Now, I am stuck in a house with many things that are not from this world! It all started on a sunny autumn morning on my way to the library.

I was one street from my destination, and noticed crows stationed near the library’s book donation box. A 10-year-old boy put something into the box, and ran forward, not seeing me. After ramming into my side, he hastily apologized and continued on. I looked down and noticed the boy had dropped a blue library book. Intrigued, I picked it up. Suddenly, lightning flashed, and seconds later it started to rain! I ran to the library entrance and stepped inside.

I was finally able to look at the book’s cover: "The Nuisance" by Count Heartwick. It seemed intriguing, so I proceeded to the front desk to check it out. Interesting enough, the book was not checked out to any library patron. So, I proceeded to borrow it for 30 days. Since the rain had stopped, I made my way out of the building, and that’s when I saw the donation box. Inside was one gold book that read — "A Night to Remember a Nuisance Transylvania Tale" by Count Heartwick. How peculiar! The boy had two books by the same author, and it was a series! I grabbed the book and went on my way.

On my journey home, I noticed different landscapes had suddenly changed! The statue of our high school’s mascot — Timmy the Tiger — was now an enormous beast with two heads. The plaque read "The Nuisance." Bewildered, I took out the blue book and flipped to the title page. A picture of the Nuisance looked back at me! I hastily slammed the book shut, and started to walk faster. I noticed that the mayor’s statue was replaced with Count Heartwick, and the park, across from my house, was now a gloomy manor!

When I finally reached by bedroom, I opened "The Nuisance" to the first page. It read:

What you did, and what you know,

Have all changed, but don’t you go!

Complete the task and you shall see

There is a way to get rid of me!

— Count Heartwick

Even though the circumstances would tell anyone to get rid of the books, I continued to read. A whole take of horrors laid within. Ghosts, monsters and the Nuisance — a half-cat, half-dragon creature, were all mentioned. With two heads, the Nuisance did not miss a thing, and could sniff its prey across the world! There was only one person who could control it. A person who held the power of the Night — a cane with a dog’s head. I recalled Count Heartwick’s statue and the cane that he rested on — it was the Night! The last page of the book was a picture of me! Holding a gold book! Now, I started to panic.

I went over to the garbage disposal and was about to throw the two books in, when I heard a voice: “Try your best and let me see! You might just get rid of me!” Shakily, I set the books down, and continued on to "A Night to Remember." This book took place in the mansion right across the street! It contained the story of how the Night came to be made. How it was forged by Count Heartwick himself, in the breath of the Nuisance’s fire! I noticed in a picture, on the last page of the book, that there was something written on the dog’s back — where the collar would be: “Take the cane and run. If you’re lucky, you’ll have won.”

I breathed deeply. The task was simple enough — get the cane and run. So, I made my way to the manor. I knocked on the door, and it opened with a creak. Shaking, I looked around. In the middle of the room, under a spotlight, was the Night. I started walking forward, but was blocked by a boulder. Suddenly realizing I was in the middle of a maze, I quickly set to finish the task. After meeting zombies, ghosts and spiders, I finally reached the middle. I grabbed the cane and ran. The floor beneath me suddenly ripped open, and I fell into the abyss, losing the cane on the way down. I write these words in case anyone happens across the books I have in my possession. Take heed before it’s too late, don’t trust-

RIP! The librarian smiled. Leaning on a cane with a strange dog head, he gave two books to 10-year-old Michael.

“You know what to do.”

3. "The Shadows," by Luke Hand, sixth-grader at Christ Child Academy

“Aw, Dennis, I can’t believe you got me again,” giggled Dad who was dripping wet. “I always seem to fall for your pranks. Who knew when you told me the water in your water bottle tasted funny that you would squirt my in the face when I looked into it. Oh, Dennis!”

Dennis was known as the town prankster. No one was safe from Dennis’ jokes. Not his family, friends or neighbors. And tonight was not going to be any different.

It was Halloween night, and it was 9-year-old Dennis’s favorite holiday. He had been preparing for weeks. He would be wearing his Darth Vader costume and in his trick-or-treat bag he would have water balloons, decks of cards, silly string, red food coloring, all the things he could use to prank the people he saw.

It was a beautiful night in Texas. Dennis was pacing and waiting for the clock to show 8:00 when his mom said they would leave for trick or treating. All of a sudden, the power went out.

Dad decided to go out and check the house’s breaker box. After 10 minutes, Dad hadn't come back in. Dennis begged his mom to go trick or treating. “Fine, but I don't want to stay out too late,” she said.

Dennis was running around his hometown like a crazy person, grabbing all his favorite candy. Candy he liked was Milky Ways, Butterfingers, M&Ms, Starbursts, Sweet Tarts. The whole time he was tricking all his friends he saw. He would leave them all wet, sticky, and laughing at the silly jokes Dennis always played.

Dennis had been running around so fast that he wasn’t paying attention to his mom and, when he did turn around, she wasn’t there.

Instead of panicking, Dennis decided to head back home with his bag full of treats. When he got home, his house was still completely dark. No Dad. No Mom. Dennis walked inside and locked the door behind him. The lights started to flick on and off.

Dennis’s phone started to ring. He didn’t know the number, so he let it go to voicemail. When he checked his voicemail, the voice said, “I'm watching you!”

There was a faint knock at the screen door in the back of their house. The knocking at the door was too loud, too erratic. Dennis looked over to his back deck and saw two shadows standing there. Slowly, the screen door begins to screech open. In walk two space people.

“Who are you?” Dennis screams. “Take your helmets off!”

Dennis froze in place. He can’t move. All he hears is deep breathing coming from the invaders to his home.

Slowly, the space people remove their helmets only to show their scary clown masks.

Dennis is now shivering in fear and then he hears …

“GOTCHA! Dennis this is payback for everything you have done to us!”

Behind the masks are Dennis’s mom and dad. Dennis said: “You got me good. How about we sit the rest of this Halloween out? I’ve had enough.”